


The Heart Has Its Reasons Of Which Reason Tries Very Hard To Know Nothing

by cat_thy_yours



Category: Gintama
Genre: (little bit of) angst, Attempts at communication, Dreams, Fluff, Hijikata's just trying his best, Idiots, M/M, Miscommunication, Repressed Feelings, actively trying to avoid communication, attempts at humor, happy birthday Gin-san!, what's communication anyway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:02:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26931823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cat_thy_yours/pseuds/cat_thy_yours
Summary: When you're both stubborn idiots, even something as simple as wishing a happy birthday can be quite the challenge.
Relationships: Hijikata Toshirou/Sakata Gintoki
Comments: 21
Kudos: 96
Collections: Gintoki's Birthday Bash 2020





	The Heart Has Its Reasons Of Which Reason Tries Very Hard To Know Nothing

**Author's Note:**

> Huge and huger thanks to my wonderful beta belat for teaching me a lot and making this fic much better than it first was (you're awesome T^T). Also thank you to [dukeofnone](https://dukeofnone.tumblr.com/) for her beautiful beautiful piece of art, I'm still trying to get over how fluffy and soft it is T^T Finally, thank you to the organizers for the event, you're all awesome!!

In his dream, Toushirou saw a field. 

The crops swayed gently with the wind, tinted golden by the dying rays of sun. He followed the trail tracing the edge of the rice paddy, each step he took on the muddy terrain reminding him of his younger days. The breeze cocooned him like an old coat on a winter night, fresh on the outside, warm on the inside. He walked, navigating the currents of nostalgia that murmured in the wind. 

He walked, until he reached the end of the trail. 

There, overcast by the shadows of a coming night, stood a bench. A lone, wooden bench, isolated from the surrounding calm to bathe in an eerie silence instead. Sitting on it was the figure of a man. Silver hair untouched by the whims of the wind, he sat with his back hunched, a leg lazily crossed over the other as if to give a sense of liveliness to the stillness of his frame. His fingers were closed over the shape of an empty cup. Next to him, on the bench, a second cup stood motionless. It wasn’t left alone; it was reserved. Waiting. 

Waiting. 

Although he should have, in his dream, Toushirou didn’t recognize the man. Even so, he didn’t turn away. 

“Who are you waiting for?” he asked instead. 

At his words, the eyes previously concealed under a veil of unknown revealed their true colour. They shifted upwards with the subtle lift of the man’s head, aiming two pools of deep wine red Toushirou’s way. Toushirou waited for the man to speak, but he waited in vain. The man never spoke. 

Instead, he smiled. 

It didn’t reach his eyes. 

It was from that gesture that Toushirou realized he hadn't been the only one waiting in vain; the second cup remained untouched even as he woke up, leaving the man to wait alone for something that never came. 

* * *

Toushirou walked down the barracks' main corridor and threw open the door to the commons. 

“Where’s Sougo?” he asked. 

The three Shinsengumi officers sitting cross-legged in the room didn’t turn around. They kept facing the small television screen in front of them as if they hadn’t heard him. 

Toushirou walked up to them. “Where’s Sougo?” he repeated. 

Two out of the three officers sent him a stern look and gestured for him to keep silent. The third one shushed him and spoke: “This is a really important scene, Vice-Commander. Kestuno is trying to confess his love to Shirino.” 

“But Shirino’s refusing to hear it,” the first one added with concern. “She’s afraid of his feelings.” 

“Even though they both love each other...” the second one said mournfully. 

Toushirou arched a brow. “Why should I care? I asked you a question.” 

“If it’s about Captain Okita, he’s not here,” the third one answered abruptly. 

“I can see that,” Toushirou said. “I’m asking you where he is.” 

The man struggled to think for a second then brought his index finger up in suggestion, eyes shifting upwards for the briefest second. “I think I saw him go on patrol a moment ago–” 

“Oi, look!” The first one grabbed his shoulder and shook it excitedly, eyes glued to the screen. “He kissed her! He kissed her and now she’s listening to him!” 

“Oh my god!” the third one exclaimed, focus stolen by the intense scene once again. 

Toushirou took the time to fish out his Mayoboro packet, taking out a cigarette to light it between his lips. He took a deep breath full of nicotine before speaking again. 

“On patrol where?” 

“Kabuki District,” was the dismissive answer, thrown out carelessly like leftover food to a dog. 

“I see,” he said in thanks. Another whiff of his cigarette and he walked up to the door. “Oh, and by the way.” 

The three officers hummed questioningly in unison. 

Toushirou drew his sword. 

“Who said you could watch a drama in the middle of a shift, you shitheads? Commit seppuku _right now_ or I’ll make you wish for it myself.” 

As touching as it was supposed to be, the soft exchange of words between the two-dimensional lovers were inevitably drowned out by the shouts of panic that followed the threat. 

Toushirou watched the trio run away like a pack of frightened puppies and sheathed his sword. Sighing, he went to grab the television remote. The lovers were kissing again, melodramatic music playing in the background as tears spilled from the woman’s eyes. 

Toushirou turned it off without remorse. “Why are our men all so obsessed with shitty romance soap operas?” he muttered to himself, putting the remote back where it belonged. “How stupid.” 

“Oh, Toushi!” 

The commander of the Shinsengumi appeared at the door, wearing his trademark carefree smile. 

“What’s this? Are you watching a drama during your shift?” he asked teasingly. 

“Of course not,” Toushirou refuted easily. “I’m looking for Sougo. He’s supposed to be in his room doing paperwork but I can’t find him anywhere.” 

“Sougo...” Kondou took a moment to think then seemed to recall something. “I think I heard him say he had an important errand to run?” 

“More important than his job?” Toushirou clicked his tongue. “As if. That brat’s just slacking off like usual.” 

Kondou tilted his head. “I don’t know, he sounded pretty serious. Saying things like today’s a special day or something...” 

Toushirou walked out of the room, his commander following after him. They both advanced in the direction of the barracks’ exit. “What’s so special about October 10th? You shouldn’t take everything he says at heart, Kondou-san. It’s obviously a lie.” 

They crossed the threshold and went out on the street. “There you go again, doubting your comrades!” His commander took on a stern look as he crossed his arms. “A little honesty won’t kill you, Toushi.” 

“How does Sougo spouting lies have anything to do with me lacking honesty?” Toushirou asked irritably. 

“It’s because you have a hard time being honest yourself that you end up doubting other people’s sincerity.” 

Toushirou stopped in his tracks. He stared at his commander, taking in the solemn eyes and genuine expression on his oldest friend’s face. He thought about retorting, but the sight made him give up on whatever argument he’d wanted to say. When Kondou gave him that look, Toushirou could never refute him; the look of pure, unbridled care for a friend. 

He sighed, picking up the pace again. “Alright, alright. I’ll listen to his excuse at least.” 

Kondou’s face brightened. “That’s the spirit! I’m sure you’ll find that the world isn’t as dark as you think it to be.” 

“Sure,” Toushirou replied dismissively through the cigarette on his lips. After a moment of simply walking toward the Kabuki District, his commander humming happily beside him, Toushirou eventually brought up the question that had been on his mind from the beginning of this conversation. “By the way, Kondou-san, why are you following me?” 

“Mh?” 

“Aren’t you on paperwork duty too?” 

“Oh, that.” His commander laughed. “I just have a quick errand to run first.” 

“...an errand? In the Kabuki District?” 

“No, at the Shimura Dojo. Which is why I’ll be leaving you off here, Toushi. Good luck finding Sougo!” 

As he watched his commander run off with an excited wave of his hand, Toushirou tried very hard not to indulge his strong urge to facepalm in the middle of the street. He returned the wave instead, albeit a lot less excitedly. 

_Kondou-san, if I lack sincerity, you definitely have too much of it._

* * *

When Toushirou finally located his target, it was to find him lounging at a dango shop. The fake eyes on the red sleeping mask didn’t blink even as Toushirou walked closer, peering down at the brat with all the cold anger he could muster. 

“Sougo, what happened to doing your job?” 

A finger lifted the mask a fraction, revealing a pair of fully unrepentant eyes. 

“My, if it isn’t Hijikata-san. Good job coming all the way here, you certainly know how to waste your time.” 

Toushirou bit down on his cigarette, urging himself not to take the bait. “I asked you a question.” 

Sougo waited a beat before sighing, taking the sleeping mask off. “Believe me, Hijikata-san, I wish I could go and do my job too, but I can’t.” Bringing a thumb up, he pointed at the figure beside him. “My wallet’s been taken hostage.” 

Toushirou’s eyes followed the gesture to land directly on a familiar tuft of silver hair. The man was sitting lazily on the bench, mouth closed over a dango stick. When the silence stretched for a bit too long, he finally looked up to meet Toushirou’s gaze. He gulped down his mouthful, unhurried, and brought a hand up in a half-assed gesture of solemnity. 

“It fell into my hands on its own, I had absolutely no power over it.” 

For the sake of his sanity, Toushirou decided not to grace the statement with a response. He turned back to his subordinate. “Get back to work, Sougo, or it won’t be your wallet but your salary I’ll be taking into custody.” 

Sougo sighed, apparently defeated. He shrugged apologetically as he stood up. “Sorry, Danna. Looks like one plate is as far as I go.” 

The Yorozuya waved a hand in both goodbye and dismissal. “It’s fine, Souichirou-kun. I still have your wallet with me.” 

“It’s Sougo,” Sougo corrected. “Also, Danna, that isn’t actually my wallet.” 

“What?” 

“What?” 

Toushirou dove into the inner pocket of his vest on reflex. Predictably, he came out empty. “Sougo, you prick!” 

Sougo waved goodbye in turn as he walked away. Before he could finally leave though, he stopped in his tracks with a soft “ah” and turned around. 

“Almost forgot,” he said from afar. “Happy birthday, Danna.” 

“Mmh,” the Yorozuya grunted in thanks. 

Toushirou had a moment of pause as he watched Sougo’s figure mingle with the crowd and finally fade away from view. When he turned back to the only person left in his presence, the man was already munching on his second dango stick. 

“Today’s... your birthday?” 

He immediately regretted asking when the Yorozuya’s eyes whipped up to him. He waited for the playful smirk and arrogant remark to arrive, but was taken by surprise when the man only looked sideways and shrugged. 

“Who knows.” 

Unexpected reaction, but still as annoying as anything coming from the guy. Toushirou wasn’t dumb, and although the ambiguous answer pissed him off, he had enough braincells to hear the ‘yes’ answer to his question. 

Which meant October 10th really was the Yorozuya’s birthday. 

Toushirou didn’t know what surprised him more; that he hadn’t ever thought of the man having a birthday like anybody else, or that he actually felt irritated that Sougo had gotten to know about it before he had. Although it was natural for him to be pissed off at anything relating to Sougo, it didn’t feel like him to be this petty. He didn’t care about birthdays, much less one like the Yorozuya’s. Hell, he didn’t even care about the man himself– 

_A little honesty won’t kill you,_ _Toushi_ _._

Toushirou frowned, biting his cigarette in half. 

Maybe Kondou was right. Wishing someone a happy birthday couldn’t possibly be that bad, regardless of whether he cared or not. Besides, if he got stubborn now and refused to say anything after he’d literally asked the man about his birthday, it would make him look like the rude douche this man often made him out to be even though he was anything but. 

And proving this man right was definitely the last thing he wanted to do. 

“Why are you just standing there? Don't you have some tax-thieving to do elsewhere? If it’s about the dango, I’m not paying you back, just so you know.” 

Toushirou’s frown deepened, his stare intensifying with the amount of effort he had to exert not to say fuck it and get back to doing his job like he should be. Maybe, if he stared enough, he could telepathically transmit his birthday wishes followed by a curt _PS: You are definitely paying me back for those_ _dango_ _bastard_ , before shutting down all communication and leaving with his conscience intact and his lips still pure. 

“You can wait as long as you want, my money won’t magically get into your wallet. Mostly because I don’t have any money in the first place.” 

Maybe, _maybe_ , he could afford to be a rude jerk after all and leave this scum of society to his own devices without saying anything. 

_This is ridiculous_ , he thought in irritation. _Why must I get a headache over the birthday of a guy like him? Be a man, Toushirou, you’re stronger than this._

He sighed, allowing his shoulders and brows to relax just a little. Deep breaths, he could do this. Okay. 

“Yorozuya,” he began. “That, you know... ha–” 

“Have tea with you? Alright, but you’re paying.” 

Toushirou blinked. 

“Wha...? I didn’t– who said anything about tea?” 

“Apparently, _you_ did,” the Yorozuya remarked casually as he stood up. Using the now bare wooden stick to pick his teeth, he brought an arm around Toushirou’s shoulders and prompted him forward. “You know what? Scratch that. Let’s go for parfaits instead. There’s this new place that makes really good parfaits, I’m sure you’ll like it.” 

“What the– I'm not going anywhere with you!” Toushirou jerked the arm away and took a step back. “And give me back my wallet!” 

“Come on, Hijikata-kun,” the Yorozuya drawled with an infuriatingly bored tone. “Don’t be such a meanie.” 

“You steal my wallet and _I’m_ the bad guy?” Toushirou scoffed. “And here I was trying to be nice too.” 

The man shook his head. “Look, you’re not thinking about this rationally. You should know all the facts before you make a decision.” 

“What facts? I don’t need facts when I already have enough evidence to put you behind bars.” 

Pinning him down with two grave eyes, the Yorozuya brought a hand to his shoulder, his expression suddenly more serious than Toushirou was used to ever seeing it be. The radical change almost threw him off balance, and he held his breath as he waited for the man to speak. 

“They have mayonnaise flavoured parfaits.” 

Toushirou grabbed the man’s collar with a fist. He opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again, but what came out of his lips was not what he’d originally intended. 

“...just one then.” 

There weren’t many moments where Toushirou resented his love for mayonnaise, but the smug smirk gracing the man’s lips at his words definitely made their whole interaction one of them. 

Curse this man and his knowledge of Toushirou’s weaknesses. 

* * *

“You told me they had mayonnaise flavoured ones.” 

The Yorozuya looked up from his menu, tilting his head innocently. “Did I?” 

Toushirou threw the menu back on the table and stood up. “I’m leaving.” 

“Wait wait wait wait wait,” the Yorozuya spluttered out, grabbing his sleeve before he could leave. “It was just a joke, Hijikata-kun! Of course the parfaits come in mayonnaise flavour!” 

“Then why isn’t it on the menu?” Toushirou grumbled sceptically. 

“Because they don’t want to scare off their saner customers.” 

“What?” 

The Yorozuya cleared his throat. “No, I mean, it’s like in Mario Kart you know? There’s the main route and then there are the hidden pathways. The mayonnaise flavour is like one of those hidden pathways; hard to spot, but all the more satisfying when you manage to get there. That’s what mayonnaise flavour is all about, get me?” 

“I’m a SEGA fan,” Toushirou said as he attempted to leave a second time. 

“Waiiiiit.” The Yorozuya stood up as well, grabbing his arm this time. “You’ve come all the way here, are you really going to give up now? Come on, you’ve got to trust me on this.” 

Staring at the man’s genuine expression, Toushirou couldn’t help but be reminded of Kondou’s words once again. For a second, he almost felt tempted to give in. 

But that was only a second. 

He pulled his arm free of the man’s grasp. “Forget it, this joke’s gone on long enough. I’ve got work to do.” 

Again, it was only second, but Toushirou could swear he’d seen something dim a little in the Yorozuya’s eyes. It took him by surprise, so used was he to only ever see a carefree kind of indifference in them. 

But that wasn’t the reason he froze before he could leave, definitely not. He froze because, at the exact same time, his phone rang. 

He quirked a brow when he saw the caller ID, then picked up. “Yes, Kondou-san.” 

_“Ah,_ _Toushi_ _? I’m calling to tell you that Sougo came back.”_

Was he imagining things or...? “That’s good.” 

_“He’s working very hard too!”_

Toushirou looked around, frowning. He could swear... “I hope that’s true.” 

_“And that’s why I’m giving you the day off.”_

“That’s– What?” Toushirou stared at his phone like it’d suddenly started speaking Chinese. “What do you mean? Why?” 

_“You haven’t had a day off in a while, right? We’ve got enough hands to cover for you today so_ _just take the opportunity and relax!”_

“No, but that’s so sudden–” 

Toushirou interrupted himself mid-panic when his eyes inadvertently made contact with two very familiar ones at a table in the back of the shop. He wasn’t sure what to feel as he witnessed his commander dive behind a flower pot’s cover, the three Shinsengumi officers of the morning hiding in plain sight by his side and stifling their laughter with difficulty. 

_“D- Don’t worry about it,_ _Toushi_ _. We’ve got you c- covered!”_

“Kondou-san,” Toushirou said, slowly. “I can hear you giggling.” _And not only through the receiver,_ he didn’t add. 

_“Oh shoot_ _–_ _”_

The line hung up. 

Toushirou snapped his phone shut wordlessly. He turned around, walked back to his table and sat down with an apparent calm that would fool even himself. 

The Yorozuya sat down too, arching a brow. “...so, you’re staying then?” 

“Not a word,” Toushirou warned, eyes closing because he was extremely calm right now. 

“Not a word,” the Yorozuya agreed easily enough. When Toushirou opened his eyes again, the man was waving to someone behind him. “Oi, old man. Three chocolate parfaits and _that_.” 

“ _That,_ huh?” The owner of the shop, a white cat-looking amanto, winked and gave a thumbs up. “Got it.” 

The Yorozuya returned the thumbs up confidently. Toushirou didn’t even bother to ask anything as he watched the mysterious exchange happen. He was too busy being calm for that. 

He _was_ calm. 

His commander and subordinates were peeping at him like a bunch of high school girls spying on one of their friend’s first date, but despite it all, Toushirou was the epitome of calmness right now. 

And this was _not_ a date. It may look like one to some roma nce-obsessed idiots but this was _not_ a date. 

It obviously wasn’t so why was he feeling so flustered right now? 

_Damnit_ _,_ Toushirou thought bitterly. _I’d bet Sougo was the one to set me up from the beginning. Even getting Kondou-san involved, that prick._

He’d only wanted to save himself the trouble of entering an insult match with the silver-haired man by wishing him a happy birthday like any normal person would in that kind of situation, so how had it come to this? Why had he accepted to treat this waste of space to a parfait when he clearly had more important business to tend to? Why was he still sitting here? Why? 

_Because it’s his birthday,_ a treacherous voice whispered in his mind. _The only chance you’ll get to treat him nicely for once._

_Shut up_ , Toushirou whispered back to the voice. _If I wanted to be nice, I wouldn’t need that kind of shitty excuse in the first place._

_If you didn’t want to be nice, you wouldn’t still be here._

_I’m just here for the mayonnaise parfait._

_And the three chocolate parfaits._

_What?_ _No. I don’t care about chocolate parfaits._

_But you’re paying for them. Don’t forget._

_What’s that got to do with_ _any–_

Toushirou’s eyes snapped up to meet a pair of red ones. He scowled. “Oi, don’t casually butt into my inner monologues.” 

“But you’re being such a bore of a conversation partner,” the Yorozuya whined as he leaned his head over his hand. “Sitting there motionless like a stone statue. Who do you think you are, the Thinker?” 

“I didn’t come here to make small talk with you,” Toushirou retorted. “If you don’t like it then go home.” 

“So you invite me here with you only to tell me to scram a second later?” The Yorozuya frowned in disapproval. “Come on, tsunderes are supposed to be cuter than that.” 

“Who’re you calling a tsundere?” Toushirou snapped, throwing the napkin he’d unconsciously grabbed during the conversation at the man’s face. “And I never even invited you here. Stop bending the truth as you please.” 

“Details are unimportant,” his target said, dodging the napkin flawlessly. “Come on, Hijikata-kun. Don’t you have anything to talk about? Anything to say? Even a boorish man like you has to have a few stories to share.” 

“I don’t have anything to say to you,” Toushirou rebuked without a shred of remorse. But before the Yorozuya could insist further, a single thought sprung to mind. “Except one thing, I guess.” 

The man arched a brow, visibly curious. 

Toushirou settled his eyes on the man’s still neatly folded napkin to help calm his nerves. He took a subtle breath in then let it out. Since he’d come this far, he might as well say it. 

“H–” 

“Here come the parfaits.” 

Toushirou blinked, feeling a disturbing sense of déjà-vu. Either he really had shitty timing with his attempts at birthday wishing, or the man in front of him was doing this on purpose. He groaned at the idea that he’d have to go through that mental jumble a third time to finally succeed in uttering two awfully simple words. 

As mentioned by the man, the owner of the shop arrived carrying a tray with four high cups settled upon it. He deposited three in front of the Yorozuya and one in front of Toushirou, then gave a thumbs up and winked again. “Here you go– three chocolate parfaits... and _that_.” He giggled to himself, not unlike a certain group of badly disguised Shinsengumi officers at the back of the shop. “Happy birthday, Gin-san. And good luck with your you-know-what!” 

It figured that some nameless secondary character would manage to do the one thing Toushirou had failed twice over. But more importantly, was everyone aware of this man’s birthday? Had he been the odd one out for not knowing about it? 

“You watch too many sappy movies, old man,” the Yorozuya mumbled dismissively. “But thanks.” 

The owner laughed and left. When the Yorozuya grabbed his spoon and dug in without further ado, Toushirou turned his focus on the cup of yellowish ice cream in front of him. It looked like a banana parfait, something sickeningly sweet that he wouldn’t be able to finish. Still, it was the right colour at least, so he figured he’d give it a try. He grabbed his own spoon and shoved a mouthful between his lips. 

“So?” 

Toushirou swallowed his mouthful and looked up. “So what?” 

“How is it?” The Yorozuya asked, lazily waving his spoon in the air. 

Toushirou shrugged. “Tastes like sweet mayonnaise.” 

“And?” 

He frowned. “And what?” 

The Yorozuya frowned back. “Do you like it or not?” 

_‘Why do you care?’_ was on the tip of his tongue, but Toushirou held it back. It didn’t escape his notice how unusual it was for the man to actually care about his tastes. Throwing a snappy comeback now would be rude for no reason. Probably. 

_A little honesty,_ he repeated in his mind like a mantra. _It won’t kill me._

“It’s not bad,” he admitted, looking away quickly and hating himself for it. 

There was a short moment of silence before the Yorozuya finally spoke up. 

“I see.” 

At the words, Toushirou’s eyes widened. He looked up, somewhere between dubious and stunned, only to see the silver-haired man licking at his spoon while facing the shop’s window. He didn’t seem any different, still insolently nonchalant and irritatingly disinterested, enjoying his ice cream like it was the only thing worth caring about in the entire world. 

But Toushirou had heard it. That tone. 

Its _softness._

He couldn’t have imagined it, could he? The gentle, subdued undertone of relief hidden within those two seemingly casual words. But why? How? Had he imagined it? He must have imagined it, right? There was no way that man had just... 

Wordlessly, Toushirou took another bite of his mayonnaise parfait. The ice cream melted in his mouth, its coolness suddenly refreshing. He was always getting thrown in for a loop when that guy was near. It was around his fourth bite that he remembered what he’d come here to do in the first place. 

Setting down the spoon, he braced himself, and spoke. 

“Ha–” 

“Have you really never played Mario Kart? You must have had a sad life. SEGA’s practically dead now, you should learn when to quit.” 

Toushirou closed his mouth. He didn’t answer, neither to the question nor to the provocation. Instead, he quirked an eyebrow at the obviousness of the _diversion._ The Yorozuya didn’t meet his eyes, but Toushirou knew he’d realized his plan had failed. He saw it in the subtle thinning of the man’s lips. 

Toushirou decided to make sure, one last time. 

“Ha–” 

“Ha ha ha!” The Yorozuya’s teeth flashed threateningly through his fake laughter. “You’re really funny, Hijikata-kun! But I’ve got things to do now, so if you’ll excuse me,” he said, standing up and preparing to leave. 

“Wait.” 

Toushirou grabbed the man by the hem of his kimono sleeve. He didn’t bother standing up as he spoke, an eerie sense of clarity washing over him at the confirmation of his suspicions. 

“You,” he said. “Why won’t you let me say it?” 

“Say what?” the Yorozuya asked, feigning calm. 

“Ha–” 

Before he could say a syllable more, the entire table flew over, empty parfait cups soaring through the air to crash mercilessly against the floor. 

“Gin-san!” The owner cried, scandalized. 

“Ah, sorry about that,” the Yorozuya apologized nonchalantly. “My foot slipped.” 

“Your foot _slipped?”_ The owner looked like a miffed cat, fur puffing out. “You kicked the table over!” 

“My bad, my bad,” the Yorozuya mumbled as he crouched to upright the flipped table. “Here, all better.” 

The owner fumed and pouted at the same time, retreating to the back of his shop to fetch cleaning supplies. Toushirou watched him go, then turned to the still crouching Yorozuya. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” 

“I can be clumsy sometimes, so what?” The man challenged as he ran a hand through his hair. “You can’t tell me you’ve never been clumsy in your life.” 

“No, not that,” Toushirou said. “Why do you need to go so far just to prevent me from wishing you a...” He hesitated. “...a you-know-what?” 

The Yorozuya seemed hesitant himself. After a moment, he stood up and turned his back to Toushirou. “Look,” he said. “I’ll pay for today. The parfaits, the damages, everything. So let’s leave it at that, alright?” 

He didn’t offer Toushirou a chance to argue as he left, slipping a few bills into the pouty owner’s pocket. 

_Let’s leave it at that._

What was that even supposed to mean? Why did this guy have to be so difficult about a birthday of all things? Nothing about the man ever made sense, Toushirou should be used to it by now. 

Even the muted pang in his chest, he should be used to it by now. 

“I swear, he can be so capricious sometimes,” the owner grumbled as he picked up the remains of his broken glass cups. “And on this special day too, what’s gotten into him? Was he nervous?” 

After a moment of absently staring into nothing, Toushirou jerked himself back to reality and crouched to help the owner clean up. The cat-like amanto didn’t look as upset as before, a flicker of amusement replacing his previous anger. 

“Why would he be nervous on his birthday?” Toushirou asked. He’d meant for it to be rhetorical but the owner took it in a different direction. 

“Oh, I wasn’t talking about his birthday.” 

Toushirou paused, confused. “You said ‘this special day’.” 

The owner smiled as if he’d just remembered something funny. “Yeah, because today’s the first time he’s asked me to prepare _that.”_

“That?” 

“The mayonnaise parfait,” the owner clarified, grinning like a Cheshire cat. When Toushirou didn’t say anything, unsure where the conversation was going, the owner went back to picking up glass shards and continued. “I’m sure you’ve noticed by now, but while I look like an Earth cat, I’ve got two tails. Because of that, most Edoites are afraid of me, claiming I look too much like a monster of legends... I think they used the name Nekomata? Anyway, ever since I opened up shop here, I’ve had a hard time maintaining a steady number of customers. I wasn’t expecting this when I first arrived, and I can’t say it’s always been easy...” 

Toushirou kept silent as he helped, wondering why he had to listen to a secondary character’s backstory all of sudden. 

“But Gin-san was different,” the owner went on, suddenly more cheerful. “He said he couldn’t care less about legends and kept coming back to this small shop of mine, however low on money he was, just so he could support me.” 

_No, he’s just always broke,_ Toushirou thought but didn’t say aloud. 

“So when he came to me one day saying I was the only one mad enough to listen to his crazy request, I couldn’t refuse him. I was so happy, you know?” 

_Don’t you realize he basically insulted you?_ Toushirou thought but didn’t say aloud. 

“And that’s how the mayonnaise flavoured parfait was born!” The owner laughed happily, bringing a hand to Toushirou’s shoulder. “I was wondering when I’d finally get to make one since he didn’t seem that keen on tasting it himself, but now I get it. It was for you, wasn’t it?” 

Toushirou didn’t move for a second, or two, stretching to three. About five seconds in, he finally got his lips to react accordingly. 

_“_ _Hahh_ _?”_ He huffed, staring at the large cat eyes incredulously. “No way, why the hell would he do that?” 

The owner smiled. “Who knows. To share a parfait with you, maybe?” 

Toushirou wasn’t even sure what he answered, but it must have been funny enough to make the owner laugh. “Make sure to come back sometime, yeah?” the cat-like amanto said as he stood up, retreating back to the shop’s rear. “I’ll always have _that_ ready for you!” 

The first thing Toushirou did as he crossed the threshold to meet the street again was to light himself a cigarette. He stood there for a while, watching the plume of smoke rise leisurely through the air to eventually fade away. Like it’d never been there in the first place. A fleeting hint, easily overlooked. 

_To share a parfait with you._

Toushirou could choose to stay in blissful denial, or he could choose to take that cat’s words for what they meant and finally acknowledge that the Yorozuya must have invited him for no other reason than simply wanting to spend some time with him. It sounded strange even in his head, the idea that the man could aim for something other than his sanity or his wallet. It sounded strange but Toushirou could concede that, if only because... 

...he wouldn’t specify the reason behind that thought. 

Then again, it didn’t make sense. If the Yorozuya had wanted them to chat, then why had he run away? Why was he so against Toushirou wishing him a happy birthday? Did he not want Toushirou to cross that boundary? Was it too private? Were birthdays supposed to be a private thing? But both Sougo and that shop owner had been granted the right easily enough, so why not him? Had Sougo and the guy been that close all along? 

...or was Toushirou just that far? 

_Damnit_ _, it doesn’t make sense,_ he grumbled in his head. _First you drag me along and then you throw me away like a dirty shoe? Who’s the real tsundere here, Yorozuya?_

He sighed. Although the whole thing had splendidly messed up his plans for the day, he could finally let go now. Toushirou wasn’t a rude douche, he could respect people’s wishes when he was asked with appropriate sincerity. The Yorozuya didn’t want him to cross that boundary, then fine. He wouldn’t. He’d just go back to the barracks and wake up a napping Sougo before subtly encouraging his commander to take his work a little more seriously. That sounded like a plan, yeah. 

It was when he reached a hand into his vest while preparing to pay for his taxi that Toushirou realized he’d just lost the last fifteen minutes of his life analysing and debating internally for nothing. 

His wallet wasn’t there. 

The man had paid and taken off with his wallet. 

Toushirou slammed the taxi’s door closed so hard the car shook. “You sly, dirty, sorry excuse of a protagonist, just you wait!” 

* * *

“For Gin-san to treat us to sushi of all things...” The Shimura sister chuckled. “Shin-chan, are you sure he’s not just sleepwalking?” 

“That’s what I want to ask, sis,” the Shimura brother chuckled back. “Gin-san, you’re not just tricking us, right? Kagura-chan's still walking Sadaharu right now but she won’t take it nicely if she arrives to find out it was all just a prank.” 

“How many more times are you going to repeat yourselves? I told you it’s fine,” the Yorozuya hummed. “I managed to land myself some good money today.” 

“Did you now?” 

The trio stopped in their tracks, the Shimura siblings turning around with curious expressions. 

“Oh, Hijikata-san,” the Shimura brother greeted pleasantly. “It’s been a while. Are you on patrol?” 

“No,” Toushirou said, grinning a predatory smile as his eyes zeroed in on the silver-haired man’s back. “I’m arresting a criminal.” 

Said criminal took the words as his cue to run away from his fate. “Come back here!” Toushirou roared as he took off after him. 

They sprinted through the streets for a long time after that, occasionally passing by civilians or merchants that saluted the Yorozuya like on any other day. Some even sent him happy birthday wishes, apparently unfazed by the demonic vice-commander of the Shinsengumi vociferating chains of curses behind him. 

But then, when they unconsciously ran back to where they’d first come from after a full circle around the district, the silver-haired man abruptly stopped. Not on purpose, not really; more because the Shimura sister, who’d apparently grown tired of their game of tag, had grabbed his collar on the way and all but choked him to a stop with a polite smile on her face. 

But then again, Toushirou hadn’t seen that coming. Which was why he didn’t stop, and inevitably ended up colliding with his target at high speed, sending them both rolling on the ground. Not one to lose his bearings though, he used the opportunity to grab the man into a head-lock, tightening his grip as they finally stopped. 

“Give me back my wallet,” he ordered through gritted teeth. 

The man struggled for a moment, trying to get him off, but Toushirou held tight. Only when he received a painful elbow to the side did he relax his hold unconsciously. To his dismay, it was enough for the man to slip out of his arm and overthrow him, pinning him down to the ground in turn. 

“Don't you know the three seconds rule?” the man said between two breaths. “If you don’t get it back after three seconds then it’s not yours anymore!” 

For the lack of a better alternative, Toushirou shut him up with a swift headbutt. He took back his place on top, digging a knee in his victim’s middle and grabbing both his hands with his own. Their breathing was ragged, both red and sweaty from exertion. “Spare me your bullshit,” Toushirou growled. “Or should I say it? Should I wish you a ha–” 

“I thought we’d agreed that you wouldn’t,” the Yorozuya snapped, trying to twist Toushirou’s wrists in an unnatural angle. 

“That was before you took off with my money,” Toushirou retorted, digging his knee deeper into the man’s middle. 

And if he felt an unexpected bump against his leg in that area, he pretended not to notice it. 

“Come on, Gin-san, Hijikata-san,” the Shimura brother finally intervened. “Can’t you talk it out like adults? People are looking...” 

After another minute of silent staring at each other, the two men spared a glance at their surroundings. The crowd gathered around them calmed down their excitation a bit. They both wordlessly agreed to stand up, dusting themselves off like nothing had happened in the first place. 

By some miraculous twist of fate, the permed man also decided to give him back his wallet. 

Toushirou arched a brow at the gesture. “Should have done this from the beginning.” 

A background character coming from the crowd walked up to them. “Happy birthday, Gin-san!” 

The Yorozuya gave a nod, then turned back to Toushirou. “It wasn’t as empty in the beginning.” 

Another background character appeared. “Happy birthday, Sakata-san!” 

Toushirou’s eyes widened. “You emptied it?!” 

“Gintoki-kun, happy birthday!” 

The Yorozuya shrugged, smirking. “Who knows? If a certain someone hadn’t jostled me around so much, I wouldn’t have dropped what was inside, you know?” 

“Happy birthday, Gin-san. Can you make it to ‘Himeko’?” 

Toushirou scowled. “Dropped it my ass! Show me your pockets, you thief!” 

“Happy birthday, Gin-san! I’ll take two please!” 

“But Hijikata-kun, I don’t have pockets.” 

“Sakata-san, it’s an honour. Happy birthday.” 

“Then show me your sleeves!” 

“Hey, don’t push! I was here first.” 

“Nothing in my sleeves.” 

“Don’t push me! It’s not my fault!” 

“As if I'd belie–” 

“Don’t cut in line!” 

“–believe–” 

“You stepped on my foot!” 

“–you–” 

“I’ve been on standby since the beginning of this fic.” 

Toushirou took out his sword with a roar. “What is wrong with you people?! Can’t you see I’m trying to have a conversation here?!” 

A mother-looking middle-aged woman sent him a stern glance. “Then get in the line.” 

“What line?” Toushirou asked, heaving with barely restrained agitation, until he looked at what the woman was pointing to and all his anger left him. 

Stretching behind the woman was a long line of background characters, all leading up to the front of the Yorozuya, who was sitting at a makeshift desk and giving out books with a smile after signing them. 

Toushirou felt his sword slip from his hand. 

“An autograph session?!” He grabbed the Yorozuya’s collar. “Why are you having an autograph session?!” 

“Oi oi, why are you getting all worked up?” the Yorozuya asked with a frown. 

“Of course I’d get worked up! You’re giving out autographs on your birthday?! What the fuck is wrong with you?!” 

“Don’t worry,” the man said, giving a thumbs up. “I’m not actually giving them out; I’m selling them.” 

“That’s not my point!” 

“Now, now, Hijikata-san,” the Shimura brother called as he tried to dissolve the tension. “People are getting impatient, why don’t you continue this conversation after this is over?” 

In his mind, Toushirou tiredly wondered if this bad joke of a day would ever truly be over. 

* * *

“So, he’s not just selling autographs but also signed Gintama volumes?” Toushirou asked as he watched the smoke of his cigarette dissolve in the air. “Won’t he get Shueisha on his ass for this?” 

“It’s fine,” the Shimura brother assured him. “Probably.” 

Toushirou felt too exhausted to comment. 

“Gin-san says he’s got the rights since he’s the main character,” the kid continued. “Since this is his last birthday before the release of the final movie, he thought it’d be the perfect time to promote. Although... to do this on his birthday of all days, it’s hard to know what he’s thinking.” 

“Doesn’t he just want to flaunt his existence to the entire world?” Toushirou suggested, leaning back on the bench where they’d sat down while waiting for the session to finish. 

The kid chuckled. “It looks like it, doesn’t it? But I don’t think that’s right... Gin-san always gets a bit weird on his birthdays, like he wants to keep himself busy with other things or something.” 

Toushirou arched a brow. “Weird?” _Isn’t he always weird?_

“You’ve noticed it too, right? How he doesn’t want to acknowledge it. Even though we all know about his birthday, Gin-san's the only one pretending it doesn’t exist.” 

Now that he thought about it, it was true that Toushirou couldn’t remember the Yorozuya ever bringing up the subject of his birthday. Not even to justify his use of Toushirou’s money. Which was unexpected coming from someone so opportunistic. 

“I remember the first time I wished him a happy birthday, he was so bashful,” the kid continued, amused at the memory. “I think he was in shock.” 

“Shock?” Toushirou frowned. “What’s so shocking about that?” 

The kid smiled. “He probably didn’t expect us to know about it.” 

“He never told you?” 

“No, never.” 

“Then how did you learn about it?” 

“I read it on his Gintama Wiki page.” 

There was a moment of silence as Toushirou let out a trail of smoke into the air. 

“I know it’s a breach of privacy but I had to find out one way or another, right?” the kid argued even though Toushirou hadn’t said anything. “Gin-san never speaks much about himself and I respect that, but sometimes... I just wish he could confide more in us.” 

Toushirou glanced at the kid, taking in his downcast eyes and pinched lips. An honest expression, full of genuine concern for someone he held dear. But unfortunately, also a childish one. Toushirou heard in the words the unmistakable touch of youth, both hopeful and naïve at once. 

He didn’t have to say anything as the Shimura sister spoke up instead. 

“Shin-chan, when a grown man decides not to talk about something, it’s not that he won’t,” she said. “It’s that he can’t.” Her smile was soft as she looked at her brother. “Besides, if Gin-san wanted someone to confide in, he’d just go to a bar. What he really wants from you isn’t that kind of thing, is it?” 

Her brother met her eyes, then nodded wordlessly. 

_What he really wants..._

Sometimes, Toushirou could see why Kondou loved this woman. 

“Did you wish him a happy birthday?” Toushirou asked after a moment when the silence had settled. “Today.” 

The Shimura brother looked up. “I did.” 

“And he let you say it?” 

“Why wouldn’t he?” 

Toushirou didn’t answer. He tipped off the ash of the cigarette, watching it fall to the ground like a pile of dirty snow. 

_So it’s only me,_ he thought. _He doesn’t want to hear it from me._

Looking at the dispersed freckles of ash, dancing to the whims of the growing breeze, he wondered why he suddenly felt cold. 

“Hope your business goes well,” he said, standing up. 

“Hijikata-san?” 

He waved a hand in goodbye and turned away. “See you around.” 

In truth, maybe he’d known all along. Words had a different meaning depending on whose lips they came from, and if the Yorozuya didn’t want to hear those specific words from Toushirou while accepting them from everyone else, there could only be one reason. After all, wishes from strangers were easy; they held no weight. Wishes from friends and family; not so much, as they grew heavier with the amount of care poured into them. But that was also what made them powerful, and although the Yorozuya seemed to shy away from them as he did with many things relating to himself, he was still willing to accept the love these people had for him. 

Because wishes went both ways; to the receiver, and to the wisher as well. To wish was to receive in return, with the acknowledgment of a bond still shared. 

To be denied that chance... 

_...Yoro_ _zuya, am I not allowed to care even that much?_

His fists clenched. He hid them away in the pockets of his pants. Maybe he’d known all along, and maybe he’d pretended not to see. Maybe, among the signs he’d been given, he’d decided to only look at the handful that seemed to say more than the rest let on. Maybe he’d relied too much on maybes all this time, and maybe it was time to stop. 

The message was clear enough. 

The feeling of the cigarette held tight between his lips anchored him as he let the smoke guide his way forward. But before he could take a step, a delicate hand grabbed his collar. “Hijikata-san,” came the Shimura sister’s sweet voice. “Aren’t you forgetting something?” 

“What?” 

She held out a hand. “We still haven’t had the chance to go for sushi.” 

“That has nothing to do with–” He interrupted himself, suddenly weary. “...are you seriously exhorting money from a policeman?” 

She smiled. “Would you rather I ask the gorilla hiding under the bench?” 

“...I don’t have any cash left.” 

“Your credit card will do.” 

“...” 

Sometimes, Toushirou wondered how this woman wasn’t a mafia boss yet. 

* * *

The sound of quick steps thundered down the corridor before the door to his room was thrown open. 

“Toushi!” His commander walked into the room and sat down right in front of Toushirou’s desk. “I told you to take the day off, what are you doing here?” 

Toushirou put down his brush before his commander’s agitation made more ink spill on his work. “Kondou-san,” he said. “I don’t know what Sougo put you up to but you can stop now. This has gone on long enough.” 

“Sougo didn’t put me up to anything,” Kondou retorted. “He only told me about the Yorozuya’s birthday and how you didn’t seem to know about it.” 

“How does that warrant a day off?” Toushirou asked, eyebrow arched. 

His commander looked frustrated for a moment before his expression turned pouty. “It was going so well too... Why did you give up, Toushi?” 

“Give up what?” Toushirou asked, frustrated himself. “Kondou-san, you’ve been acting weird the whole day. Just what is it that you’re trying to do?” 

Kondou’s eyes shifted up to him, somewhat hesitant, before the man finally sighed. “I just want you to celebrate the special day of someone you care about.” 

Toushirou stared, then picked up his brush and started writing again. 

“Toushi, there’s no ink left on that brush.” 

Toushirou put down his brush. 

“Toushi,” his commander said, soft. “Lying to yourself won’t make anyone happy.” 

“What if it makes _him_ happy?” 

His commander blinked, surprised, and Toushirou knew he’d fucked up. He should have stopped there, he really should have, but be it because of his exhaustion or his frustration or the mess of emotions that was currently his mind, he couldn’t. 

“What if he doesn’t see want to see it? What if he doesn’t want to acknowledge it? What, then?” His heartbeat quickened without his consent, and he distantly realized he was holding his brush a bit too tight. “What if lying to myself _is_ for the best?” 

Kondou stayed silent even after he’d finished, allowing him to take the breath he hadn’t realized he’d missed. The windchimes ringed softly through the silence. Toushirou closed his eyes. 

“Toushi,” came his commander’s voice, low, gentle. “Do you know why that man is so fond of money?” 

“Because he’s always broke,” Toushirou suggested. 

Kondou shook his head. “A man of his caliber; if he really wanted to he could become rich in a day. He doesn’t care about money that way.” 

Toushirou looked at his brush, dry and cracked. “Then why?” 

“Because he doesn’t know how to accept anything else.” 

When Toushirou looked up, his commander was smiling. 

“And expressions of love are the hardest to accept.” 

Toushirou didn’t say anything, because he didn’t have anything to say. Kondou’s eyes looked fond as he brought an arm up, resting a hand over his shoulder. 

“Toushi, for both his sake and yours; _don’t give up.”_

* * *

After Kondou left, Toushirou didn’t move. He remained sitting, back slightly hunched as he stared at his unfinished report. The black ink on the white paper seemed to blur, characters merging with one another in a jumbled mess of silent whispers. An ironically accurate description for the current state of his thoughts. 

_Let’s leave it at that._

_Don’t give up._

Which one should he trust? 

“Those reports won’t write themselves, you know?” 

Toushriou’s head snapped up. Sougo was leaning on the open door, not bothering to hide a yawn as he stood with his arms crossed. “Well,” he added when Toushirou didn’t react immediately. “Looking at the state you’re in, I doubt you’ll be able to write them anyway.” 

“You should be working,” Toushirou finally managed to say as he watched his subordinate walk into the room. 

“Which is what I’m trying to do,” Sougo said, coming to a stop just next to Toushirou. Hands in his pocket, he looked down, bed hair on full display. “But there’s someone hogging my seat.” 

“This is my room.” 

“They’re my reports.” 

Toushirou frowned, confused at the brat’s apparent willingness to take over his work. Since when did Sougo want to do any work? Was it a trap of some sort? 

“It’s not a trap, Hijikata-san.” Sougo nudged him aside with his foot. “It’s just that I’d rather work than have to look at that constipated face of yours.” 

“I’m not constipated.” 

“Aren’t you?” 

Sougo’s lips formed a smile, but his eyes were cold. “Hiding your fears behind petty excuses, aren’t you sickening? You and that man both.” His smile dropped. “You really piss me off.” 

Toushirou didn’t say anything. He stared at this paperwork for a moment longer before finally standing up. Only after he’d grabbed his vest and gone to the door did he speak up. 

“Make sure to finish all of them.” 

“Make sure to get hit by a car on the way.” 

Toushirou let out a snort and left. 

* * *

When he lifted the noren to enter the bar, the Yorozuya was already on his second bottle. Head resting over his crossed arms on the counter, he didn’t look up as Toushirou approached. Toushirou grabbed the stool next to him and sat, waiting for the owner to take his order. 

“There’s more space over there,” the Yorozuya said, gesturing to the number of empty seats around them. 

Toushirou didn’t spare him a glance. “I know,” he said. 

When the owner came, Toushirou ordered his usual and asked for it to be put on the tab of his tablemate. Both the owner and his tablemate arched an eyebrow at this, but only the latter bothered to comment. 

“Not only do I have to bear with your grumpy face for the third time today but now I also have to treat you? Give me a break.” 

_If you didn’t want to see me, why did you choose to drink at our usual place?_

Toushirou kept his thoughts for himself. “After making me run around all day the least you could do is buy me a drink,” he said instead. 

Either because he was too tired or because he knew he’d end up paying with the money he’d stolen from Toushirou anyway, the Yorozuya didn’t retort. He kept staring at his half-filled sake cup, eyes distant as the bar’s patrons made the liquid’s surface ripple subtly with the echo of their voices. 

Toushirou’s order arrived and he poured himself a cup. They drank in silence. 

When a cheery group of drunks left the bar to hit the next, the surrounding chatter calmed down. Toushirou put down the cup that he’d already emptied three times. 

“Yorozuya,” he said. “You’re a selfish bastard, but I’m selfish too.” 

The red eyes slid up to meet his. 

“Whether you want it or not, I’m going to say it.” 

Wordlessly, the man stood up. He got a few bills out of his sleeve and left, not even bothering to bid the owner farewell. 

Toushirou poured himself a fourth, final cup, and downed it in one go. When he slammed his cup back down on the counter, a few patrons flinched. 

“That stubborn fucking prick.” 

He grunted a goodbye and left as well. Outside, the air was cold, but the liquor in his system gave him heat. He walked down the road until he spotted the hem of a white kimono fluttering ghostly under the moonlight. The sight made him pause, then hurry again, his pace quickening with the rhythm of his heart. What was he afraid of? He wasn’t sure. To let go of this man or to run after him, what was the most frightening? 

“Yorozuya,” he called, his breath visible in the cold air of the night. 

The man didn’t turn around, only walked faster, his back the only thing he was willing to offer. Toushirou let out a curse, breaking into a run. _What are you afraid o_ _f?_ Was the question in his mind, although he was no longer sure who it was meant for. 

Before him, the man turned a corner to duck into a narrower, less crowded street. Toushirou saw his chance and sprinted, grabbing the floating piece of white cloth before it could fully disappear and tugging hard. The clink of metal as he dug in his pocket was muffled by the sound of their scuffle, pushing and tugging and pulling back and forth, until the silver-haired man finally froze. 

The red eyes peered down to their hands, now joined at the wrists by the sturdy chains of a police cuff. 

“Hijikata-kun... what’s this?” His face formed a grimace of incredulity, his cheeks flushed from both the cold and the alcohol. “I paid for your drink so why am I getting arrested?” 

“Because you keep running,” Toushirou grunted, glad to be able to catch his breath at last. “And because I won’t let you go until I get to say it.” 

“Why are you so persistent?” the Yorozuya asked, mist puffing out of his lips. “It’s just a birthday wish, aren’t you putting way too much effort into this?” 

“That’s my line,” Toushirou said. “Why are you trying so hard not to hear it? And what gives you the right to shut me up in the first place?” 

“You look so damn serious whenever you try to say it and it gives me the creeps, what more reason do I need?” 

Toushirou’s frown deepened. He arched his back straighter and breathed in. 

“Ha–” 

Two cold hands went to muffle his lips. Toushirou stared at the Yorozuya, eyes voicing what the man’s ears refused to hear. 

Random as it seemed, Toushirou found himself reminded of the morning. Of the three officers, glued to a television screen. Of the two lovers, and of their dramatic scene. 

_Kestuno’s_ _trying to confess his love to_ _Shirino_ _but she won’t listen. She’s afraid of his_ _feelings._

He grabbed the hands silencing him, pulling them away. 

_Even though they both love each other...._

The Yorozuya let him do it, his eyes wary. 

_Oi, look!_

Toushirou smiled– 

_He kissed her!_

–and kissed him. 

It wasn’t soft nor delicate. It wasn’t anything like in the movies. In fact, it was so rough and sudden that the Yorozuya’s head got smacked against the wall, teeth impacting painfully against Toushirou’s even through the cushioning of their lips. Lips that were chapped, and cold, and the way they rubbed against each other was nothing romantic. But at the end of the day, it was still a kiss, and just like in the drama of the morning, when Toushirou pulled back, the Yorozuya was too busy being stunned to say anything. 

“Happy birthday.” 

A second passed, or two, or five. Toushirou waited, somehow out of breath, as the face of the man before him turned a darker tint of pink. Maybe it was from the cold, or maybe it was from the exertion. Maybe it was from the same thing that made Toushirou’s ears feel hot under his skin. Whatever the reason, Toushirou didn’t care. Only thing that mattered was that he’d finally said what he’d had to say. 

“Ah, damn it.” The Yorozuya sighed, weaving a hand through his hair with his free arm. “You just had to go ahead and say it.” 

He looked at Toushirou, then away. The hand in his hair grew agitated, his face scrunching up in frustration as he let out a groan. But when he faced Toushirou again, his eyes looked determined; the same determination Toushirou had had to depend on to make it past the most cowardly part of his mind. 

“And now I have to thank you.” 

Toushirou snorted. The tips of his fingers were tingling, but he blamed it on the cold. “Don’t tell me this whole debacle was because you were too embarrassed to say two simple words.” 

“Shut up,” the Yorozuya said, taking a step closer. “I just don’t want to feel like I owe you anything.” 

“Like I’d expect anything from you.” 

As if in answer to his provocation, the Yorozuya’s lips met his own again. This time, it wasn’t hurried, nor did it have a hidden purpose. It was simply there, a soft contact on his skin, warm and cool and fiery hot at once. The Yorozuya’s hand that was linked to his rose to brush his face, prompting Toushirou to do the same over the man’s reddened cheek. Their eyes closed while their mouths opened, heads tilting to the side as their tongues greeted each other. It felt both strange and yet so natural, a sensation that his mind found new while his heart had known it all along. A hand went to his nape, urging him closer, and Toushirou brought his arm around the Yorozuya’s back. Their legs met, somehow, thighs melting against each other at the briefest contact and their breathing grew heavier, more forceful as their tongues finally melded into one. 

Toushirou didn’t know who retreated first. All he knew was that they were back at looking at each other from the distance of a hush, their hands holding onto something their minds still couldn’t quite grasp. The chain around their wrist felt like a deadweight now. 

“If you don’t expect anything from me,” the Yorozuya said, licking his lips. “Does that mean I can’t disappoint you?” 

Toushirou snorted. “You’re the embodiment of disappointment.” 

“That’s harsh,” the Yorozuya chuckled. He brought his head down to Toushirou’s shoulder, his arm sliding around his waist. “Hey,” he said, voice lower than usual. “Is this really what you want?” 

Instead of answering, Toushirou looked up. The moon was only half full, a peeking eye in the darkness of the night. It seemed to laugh at them amid its heavy clouds, laugh at their struggles from its lonely perch up high. 

But Toushirou didn’t mind. “What about you?” he said, still looking at the sky. “What do you want?” 

A cool wind ruffled their hair as the silence stretched. Around his waist, the Yorozuya’s grip strengthened. 

“Kagura’s not home.” A pause, and then, “Stay the night?” 

Toushirou had work waiting for him. Piles of reports left to write, a training to lead, and orders to give out. In no universe did he have the time for that. 

“Alright,” he said. “Cause it’s your birthday.” 

He heard a chuckle. The Yorozuya’s head rose, hair tickling his cheek before a warm breath came to caress his ear. 

“Then I guess birthdays aren’t so bad.” 

* * *

In his dream, Toushirou saw a field. 

The crops glowed softly in the dark, painted silver by the kiss of the moonlight. Beneath his feet was a trail, the same one he’d followed the previous night. He let the stars guide him as he walked down the path, each step bringing him closer to the one he had to find. 

And find he did. 

There, at the end of the trail, stood a bench. A lone, wooden bench, with a lone figure sitting over it. This time, the silver hair was familiar as it flowed gently with the wind. As were the two cups, one taken, one waiting. 

Waiting. 

Toushirou didn’t bother asking anything. He walked on, past the end of the trail, and sat down. Wordlessly, he took the second cup, holding it delicately in a hand. 

“What are we drinking?” he asked after a time. 

Next to him, the man smiled. He peered down at his empty cup, then back up at the sky. 

“Who knows,” he said, before turning to meet Toushirou’s eyes. 

“I can’t wait to find out.” 

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you all enjoyed your ginhijigin week, happy birthday to our favourite sugar addict!!  
> And please go visit [dukeofnone's tumblr](https://dukeofnone.tumblr.com/) and pixiv accounts for more great art ;)


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